


now you're in my blood

by stormss



Series: boys made of space [2]
Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, just brief tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormss/pseuds/stormss
Summary: The first time he says those three words, they're on the run.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello !!
> 
> this kind of...became longer than i intended but i just wanted to write something like this so here you go! they have literally taken over my life and i will probably write about them until i physically can't type anymore, so. 
> 
> let me know about any errors! (i wrote this instead of sleeping please help).

It might be a dangerous thing, that art is his escape. Now more than ever. 

Dizzee's had creativity flowing through his veins since he could hold a crayon as a kid; his father was a lover of music, always has been and always will be, and he was more than willing to support his oldest son with his artistic endeavours. Because of this, Dizzee's got pages upon pages taped up on his walls — messy scribbles of stick figures and the night sky replaced now with sketches of Rumi and fragments of unfinished and imperfect poems. Only now, Dizzee finds that he can't contain his ideas to just a measly scrap of paper. He's filled what feels like hundreds of sketchbooks, and the sides of train cars just become a slightly larger canvas. 

He, like all the other artists of the Bronx, just want to make their city a little more fucking _alive_. With colours and imaginary creatures and prose speaking of revolution and love. Dizzee will never understand why Koch has such a problem with it. 

But of course the mayor does have a problem with it, and that means that the cops start coming down harder on them. Dizzee first notices it when his dad huffs over the daily paper in the shop one morning, ten minutes before opening. 

"Pops?" Dizzee asks, the room feeling quiet as Boo and Ra had already left for school. 

Instead of a response, his dad holds up the paper so the front page is in his view. Dizzee feels his stomach drop when he reads the headline:  _12 Arrests Made in the Crackdown on Vandalism_. He already knew that arrests had been made — Crash had been one of them, and the only thing Dizzee can think of is how Daze had been like a solemn statue when telling all of them at the writer's bench. Crash's most recent piece was an unfinished mess — all scraggly lines and dripping paint caused by the cops' pursuit on him. Dizzee bows his head and his father catches on quickly. 

Winston Kipling was a calm man; sturdy and sure and optimistic in a rather shitty world. But with his children he wanted nothing more than for them to be safe. And happy. His oldest boy running around on the streets with spray cans and risking that safety he'd worked so hard to establish for them turned him into a strict figure. 

Dizzee prepares for a lecture; instead, he gets a hug. 

"Promise me something, Marcus," his dad says, arm still around him. Dizzee nods. "When you're reaching for the stars, make sure you have somewhere to land." 

Dizzee's all wide-eyes looking at his pops. The only thing he can do is nod again. "I promise, dad." 

"Good, good." 

With that, there's a squeeze to his shoulder and his dad ambles off, calling out to his mom and kissing her cheek. Dizzee smiles a little at them, and glances down, inspecting the purple colour Yolanda had painted onto his nails the night before. His mom is almost like the queen of their street — everyone passing by waves to her, wishes her well — and as Dizzee leaves for the day, it's no different. 

"I don't want you out too late, okay, baby?" 

Dizzee tries to pull out of her grasp, but she peppers kisses down his cheek, leaving lipstick marks. " _Ma_." 

"Be home by eight, okay?" his mom clarifies, as Rico from down the road waves enthusiastically in her direction. He'd been a customer of the shop since '65 and he was basically an uncle to Dizzee and his siblings. She lifts a hand back, smile easily forming, dimples that only Yolanda and Boo share with her appearing. Dizzee really can't argue with her. 

"Okay." Dizzee says, and she smiles at him, before disappearing into the shop. He can hear the music turn on and he walks with a little bounce in his step, as the familiar harmonies follow him down the block. When it fades away Dizzee takes a little detour, walking through the neighbourhood on a day that's already sweltering. He's happy that Spring has finally arrived — the season of rebirth, the season where warmth comes back from hiding. 

Dizzee feels himself moulding back into the best version of himself. One with an alien friend hammering in his chest and a smile plastered on his face. He could be weird, but he couldn't give a shit, because for once Dizzee Kipling felt he _belonged_. Of course, the heat was always intense, and in New York it likes to latch onto the streets and never let go until October. Dizzee's happy to be able to wear his favourite clothes again, though. His sleeveless jackets and pins and sparkle; his jeans that are splattered with paint and his beat-up Chucks. 

He spends most of the day strolling around, but when the sky turns from blue to pink to grey, Dizzee follows the familiar path to the train yard. It's been pretty quiet since Crash was taken down (though rumour on the street is that he's getting out soon) but that won't stop Dizzee. He knows it won't stop Thor, either, and he's excited to see him again. He pushes through the broken link of fence and hops the gates of the station; he finds his way to their usual meeting place, right at the entrance of the tunnel where Rumi and Thor's pieces shine the brightest. Dizzee scans the shadows for the boy, and finds him leaning against the wall. 

His own bag is on the ground next to his feet; his hair is tied back to ward off the humidity, and he's got a joint between his lips. Unlit, like he was waiting to share. 

Dizzee loves him.

It dawned on him a few weeks ago, watching his parents in their kitchen. It dawned on him when he watched them twirl around as his mom lit the gas stove, preparing a big meal as always. It was the way they still looked at each other even after twenty years of marriage. It was the way they still had their initials —  _W + A_ — carved on their bedpost. Dizzee dreamed with that, usually with a girl, when he was younger. And he still loved girls in the way they moved, their fire under their softness, the beauty of their eyes, but he loved boys too. One in particular. 

"Rumi! What's up, man?" Thor's eyes are bright now, more gold than anything in the light provided by his lamp, as he welcomes Dizzee in a hug. "Dizz, I missed you." 

"It's been two days." Dizzee says, laughter in his voice, but his heart feels warm. Thor  _missed_ him, and Dizzee missed him the same. Probably more. If he were Zeke, he already would've had three different stanzas in his mind, rhymes ready to convey his emotions. But he isn't Zeke. And in this case, he doesn't think he wants to be. 

Thor shrugs, brings him back to reality. "Still, I missed you." 

Then he offers the joint, and Dizzee nods, and his breath catches in his throat as Thor places it between his lips, watching him carefully. Then he lights it, and the orange-yellow-red of the flame hits Thor's face and illuminates his sharp features. 

Dizzee feels high already. Maybe that's what their love is. Feeling high without the drugs; touching the stars with their fingertips. Kissing and kissing and — 

"Dizz?" Thor jerks his head in the direction of the tunnel, hoisting his bag up to his shoulder. 

Dizzee holds some of the smoke in. When he exhales, he bumps shoulders with Thor. "Let's go." 

\- - -

They last a total twenty minutes before they hear the dogs barking. 

"Shit," Thor whispers, and Dizzee's already packing up their stuff. They end up leaving the lamp, so they don't have to worry about it giving their hiding place away. A few cops start shouting as they approach, and Dizzee grabs Thor's hand this time. 

"Come on." Dizzee says, fingers curling with Thor's, the two of them becoming one as they run for their safety. Dizzee feels like he's unclipping his wings and soaring as he runs, feeling sure with his footing on the hard ground. They eventually pull apart, because it's kind of difficult to maintain speed when you're latched together with someone, but the second they slip into Thor's little hiding spot, their fingers naturally wind together again. 

The piece they had been working on was big and collaborative, something they'd been planning in their books for weeks. Something to make a statement. Something they'd maybe get onto a train car one day soon, if they didn't get locked up before then. Thor's breathing hard next to him, a few strands of hair that'd gotten loose from his ponytail plastered to the side of his face. 

"That was a close one." Thor mumbles, their voices quiet to avoid the echoing of the tunnels. Dizzee can't stop looking at him. 

"I love you." 

Thor's eyes meet his, and he looks like he thinks he didn't hear right. Dizzee had known about Thor's life before they met; how he had casual relationships with his friends, how he didn't pay much attention as to who he was kissing. He liked people, he liked the warmth of love. Dizzee felt closed off from that, and sure, he's kissed a couple girls, but this, here, _now_ , is what he wants. For as long as he gets to have it, he wants it. 

"I'm sorry," Dizzee finds himself saying, words coming out before his mind can process what he's saying. "That was dumb, my mom always says that I speak before thinking and I —" 

"Dizzee." Thor says, quickly, hands on his shoulders to sturdy him. To hold him down from flying to the stars. 

"Yeah?" 

Thor looks to the ground before continuing. "Can I kiss you?" 

"Yeah." 

And then they're kissing, one of Dizzee's favourite things to do with him. He's got a hand against the sharp jut of Thor's jaw, and if he moves his fingertips down just a little, he can feel the fast thrum of Thor's pulse. They pull away to breathe, sharp inhales against their lips as their foreheads knock together. Dizzee still craves more, so he initiates it, kisses Thor until he just might pass out. 

"I've never been _in love_ with someone before." Thor admits, and Dizzee's started to pick at the nail polish. Thor meets his gaze, and Dizzee would set fires to see that look again. One so full of love and pure softness; one he knows he's mirroring exactly. 

"But..."

"But I know that I love you," Thor says, quick, completely fearless until he realizes what he's just confessed and his cheeks go a little pink. "I think I have since that train ride home, remember? The first night?" 

Dizzee smiles, and he hides it in his knuckles. "I remember." 

They're quiet for a moment, and they want to wait the cops out some more, so they slide down to sit on the ground. They sit close, shoulders pressed together, and Dizzee casually doodles over Thor's exposed knee with his fingertip, suddenly thankful for torn jeans. More time passes, time ticking down until Dizzee has to leave to abide by his mom's rules. He kisses Thor again, chaste and sweet, then he noses at his neck and presses kisses there. 

"Thank you." Dizzee murmurs, into the junction where Thor's shoulder meets his neck. His lips had been there half a moment ago, but now he has to speak his mind. "Thank you for showing me freedom." 

"Thank you for joining me." Thor whispers, sounding honest and sure. 

Thor finds Dizzee's hand and holds it tight, and Dizzee looks at their twined fingers, like a match made by the gods themselves. Two rebels, two poets, two souls becoming one. Dizzee prefers words to punches; he's never been one for violence. But in this case he'd be willing to risk all he is for this boy who makes him feel like he could join the clouds in the sky on any given day.

He'd be willing to throw it all away just to share this moment with Thor. And knowing that the other boy feels the same way just thrums deep in his heart that this is _real real real_ and nothing could ever come close to matching this. Nothing. 

And he wouldn't have it any other way. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! i literally,,, die when i get comments so feel free to drop one below! 
> 
> my [ tumblr! ](http://bi-kipling.tumblr.com/)
> 
> <3 <3


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